Sunday, October 8th, 2006...1:32 pm
Too tired to think.
My last weekly authentic was ambitious and hopeful. It made a lot of observations in the hopes of coming to grand conclusion about where I am with my life right now. I’m afraid that after a week and a half, I am still no closer to distilling the wisdom of what I am feeling right now. I can, however, use simpler words. I can talk about being stressed out without the extended metaphor. I can talk about not getting things done when I had planned without the six syllable words. You see, I am too tired to write flowers and hope. I am too tired to sit here and wax poetic or anything else for that matter. I am too tired to think.
I don’t take this feeling lightly. Thinking is my favorite pastime. It is what I do when I am feeling bored. Think and write. Being too tired to think is torture, like seeing the cookie jar on the counter and being too small to reach it. And yet, the exhaustion of working through my ideas is too much for me right now. Mental drain is real, and every one of my formerly available faculties have been slowly sucked down. I haven’t even the ability to rub two brain cells together to create the warmth of wit.
So, what can I do when my smarts smart? I start to explain things that are really going on. I give a play-by-play of everything I feel, because I have no filter, no way of getting around the inevitable.
I have a pile of papers to grade.
I haven’t written the lessons for when my baby is born.
My wife can’t sleep.
My dog keeps pooping in the house.
My tile floor keeps breaking.
I haven’t done my homework for Language Theory.
I’m not sure what else I can say. These are the things that make my mind mushy. These things weigh upon me, piling themselves on top of one another. So many others too. Also. In addition. As well.
3 Comments
October 9th, 2006 at 8:08 am
[...] Talk about being too tired to think. [...]
October 18th, 2006 at 9:13 pm
[...] The school bell rang. The eeire sound echoed through my hears for what seemed like a million years. Dang it…school. School wasn’t exactly my favorite thing in the world. To add to that, there was a blizzard outside with 30 mph wind nipping at my face. Even though the snow was beautiful, it was just another miserable thing to add to my day. And I felt like I had insomnia, which is the lack of sleep. [...]
October 20th, 2006 at 8:52 am
[...] My pen stops writing. The lines on the paper seems like boundaries instead of guidelines. I try to think but all I think about is banging my head against the table thinking of what to write. I want to run away. Run away from all my feelings and annoying siblings. My heart shattered by the cruelty of society. I try to glue it back together but the only thing I’m gluing together are my hands. My thoughts are making it hard to sleep. I want to build a wall but no roof. Let the snow fall on me and give me the only comfort I can find. It seems like all the decisions I make turn out to make things worse than they already are. Like dirty dogs digging deeper holes. They tell me to make the right decisions but the left side of my body is the only side that works. Every time I make a bad decision a bell rings in my mind tell me that I messed up again. [...]
Leave a Reply